Protecting One's Own
by GhostHelwig
Summary: Someone in the culdesac crosses the line... Rated R for adult situations, suggested violence, suggested NC, foul language. Slight slash. Not for the faint of heart.


Disclaimer – I do not own or profit from Ed, Edd N Eddy; they belong to the Cartoon Network, not me.  The story, however, is mine.  Make Double D proud – be polite and ask before taking, please.

Rated R for suggested violence, suggested N/C, adult situations, and foul language.  Not for the faint of heart.  And yes, it is slash, though not by any means is it graphic slash.

If anyone's curious, the Double D quote comes from "For Your Ed Only," the one where the Eds find Sarah's diary.

Anyway, enjoy.  Peace, all.

Protecting One's Own

     I knew something was wrong the instant I heard Eddy's voice.

     "I – I need..." he whispered through the phone, and my heart was suddenly beating painfully against my ribs.  Before he could say another word I whispered back, "I'll be right there."  Then he hung up.

     I was out the door and running to Eddy's house before my brain fully comprehended what I was doing.

     When I finally got to his domicile I was panting, sweating, and exhausted – I have never been nor will I ever be an athlete of any kind.  I knocked politely, and entered when I heard his soft (too soft; Eddy is never _soft_) voice call my name.  What I saw when I entered his bedroom left me horrified and gasping.

     Eddy was curled up in a tight ball, his perpetually pink skin suffused with an angry red flush.  Upon closer inspection I could see scratches on his arms, and a bruise forming around his closed left eye.  His yellow shirt hung half off his body, the tattered remains of his protection.  I think I knew then what had happened, I think I knew it deep down in my quivering, aching intestines, but I didn't want to believe it.

     I closed the door firmly, then deliberately turned back to him.  His eyes opened and gazed desperately at me, twin pools of misery and shame.  I could see in his face that he hated me seeing him like this; I could also see that I was the only person he could allow to see him like this.  At another time that amount of trust would've thrilled me.  As it was...?  That pained contradiction broke my heart.

     I moved to sit on the edge of his circular bed, careful not to jostle him, or touch him just yet.  First...

     "Eddy?" I prodded gently.  His shoulders shook, but he said nothing, only looked at me with those sad, wide, needing eyes.  I reached for him, to tenderly touch his sweaty skin, but he jerked away – then grabbed my hand and for one heart-pounding minute held it to his chest like he couldn't let me go.  When he finally released me I was the one trembling.

     Unable to bear his open, scrutinizing gaze I looked at him, really _looked_.  And that was when I saw it.  Blood, drying blood, on the seat of his blue pants.

     I managed to swallow all the bile that rose in my throat, but only just.

     When I could speak again I asked but a single question: "Who?"

     He stared at me, blankly, but the look didn't fool me for a second.  He knew what I asked of him.  He knew.

     And when he finally managed a small, hot whisper, I knew my answer.

     I waited for him inside his house.  I knew his parents wouldn't be home for another two hours – more than enough time if he came home soon, and I knew he would.  So predictable... it would be his downfall.

     He came in, slammed the door.  He didn't notice me in the shadows, lurking, biding my time.  A little closer, and I'd have him.  A little closer...

     He was almost close enough when he saw me.  I watched the surprise and confusion spread over his face as he took that last necessary step.  Close enough.

     "Double D...?"

     With one hearty swing of the baseball bat I knocked Kevin unconscious.

     He woke up furious.  Who wouldn't, though, when awakening bound and gagged after having been hit on the head by the neighborhood weakling?  I imagine that would make anyone feel a little foul.

     I watched him struggle in contemplative silence, inwardly congratulating myself on the effectiveness of using two crossed chains to pin him to his own bed.  What a sight he made.  What an ugly, diseased sight.

     I sat on the edge of his bed, and the indention my slight weight made in the mattress pulled the chains a little tighter, bringing Kevin's eyes to me.  He growled something inarticulate behind the gag in his mouth, and I could feel my lips curving into a mirthless, cold little smile that I couldn't contain.

     Out of habit I began, "I do apologize for the abrupt accommodations, Kevin."  Apparently he remembered the last time I'd said those words to him, too, because his eyes darkened and then flashed dangerously.  The sight could've been amusing, but I found I was very, very far from amused.

     I wasn't going to speak to him at all.  I was just going to do what I came to do and be done with it, with him, but it felt so... unfinished.  A lack of closure annoys me greatly.  Therefore I found myself speaking to him, this once-proud bully now helpless before me, the cul-de-sac's resident nerd, confirmed weakest of the weak.

     "You raped him."  It isn't a question.

     Kevin's usually unreadable eyes went wide with shock – but no denial.  Not that I would've believed in it even if I had seen it in his gaze.  If anyone could teach their eyes to lie it would be Kevin.

     But I could see in his face that he wanted to deny it, it killed him to be unable to, and I found myself thinking, _deny it and I'll gouge out your eyeballs with prongs, don't think that I won't, you have no _idea _what I'm capable of_.  I didn't realize I'd said all that aloud until I saw fear begin to form in his face.  It didn't make me proud, but I was not displeased by it, either.

     It wouldn't hurt Kevin to know a little fear – and by the time I'm through with him I intend him to be fear's lover.

     After all – he's spent the whole of his life terrifying Ed, Eddy, and I, spreading his own brand of fear throughout the cul-de-sac.  He's been fear's messenger-

     Now it's time he was fear's bitch.

     At that thought I smiled a little.  Eddy _has_ been rubbing off on me.

     "I'd ask you why," I muttered half to myself as I pulled on rubber gloves, "but even if I could risk you screaming I think I already know."  He glared at me then.  A dark, vicious glare.

     I laughed.

     He looked shocked, and his shock made me laugh even harder.  God, it felt good to be the one laughing at _him_ for once, and not the other way around.

     I know he thought I was becoming unhinged.  But I wasn't.  Not at all.

     "I know why you did what you did," I finally said, snapping the gloves into place.  "After all, what better way to make Eddy feel your power?  But tell me, Kevin," I leaned in close, staring into his eyes, "who's got the power now?"

     He didn't say anything – how could he?  But it didn't matter.  I went on as if he'd spoken.

     "You couldn't just be satisfied with tormenting us, could you?  You had to go farther, to push harder.  A real overachiever you are, Kevin."  I laughed bitterly.  "But your unimaginative revenge for sins we never committed is the last straw.  I cannot allow you to continue down this path.  It ends here."

     And with that I reached into the black medical bag at my feet and pulled out my surgical instruments.

     He knew, I think, what was coming.  I could see him squirming, trying to get free.  If this had been about vengeance I'd have felt vindicated by his obvious fear.  But it wasn't.  And all I felt was numb.

     "I'm sorry, Kevin," I said, knowing I sounded anything but.  "Though truly you brought this on yourself.  In olden days, what I am going to do to you would be considered a just punishment for the crime you've committed."  I reached over and deftly undid his pants.  "You understand, don't you?"

     He really fought then, but it was to no avail.  I know my work.  There's no way in the world he could've escaped me.  What needed done would be done.

     I reached back into my back as I went on.  "You see, Kevin, you've done something unforgivable, something no one can absolve you of."  I paused to look deep into his face, wanting him to understand.

     "You made Eddy _dirty_, Kevin," I whispered.

     His eyes went wide, and I could feel him suddenly studying me, looking at me in a new light.  I blushed and looked away.

     I knew I'd given myself away, but that wasn't why I'd blushed.  I was remembering.  Remembering sweat and skin and _filth_-

     I found myself spilling words out of my mouth, telling him more than I'd ever told anyone.

     "You can't imagine what it's like, being made dirty like that," I began softly; so deceptively softly.  "So dirty you can't ever really feel clean again, so dirty that your _pure_ parents can't bear to look at you, can only communicate with you through _sticky notes_ – I'm so _sick_ of sticky notes!  Glaring at me everywhere like angry, judgmental little eyes, telling me with their very _existence_ that I'm unworthy!  I even hate the _color_!  That – _yellow_ – drives me nuts!  Sometimes I just want to rip Eddy's shirt off and _burn_ it, I so despise that _color_!  And they even make me _wear_ it, those _stupid_ pajamas, and – and – that horrid, insipid, _inescapable_ color that taunts me with all my failures, with all I can't be – always reminding me that _I am dirty_!"

     I stopped, breathless, wrapped my arms around myself when I realized I was shaking.  Kevin stared at me with large, concerned eyes, but his pity moved me not at all.  It changed nothing.  I still had a job to do, a disease to cull.

     I went back to rummaging in my bag.  Finally I found what I needed, and pulled it out.  Kevin stared at the needle in my hand, incomprehension evident in his blank gaze.

     Not wanting to carry any more than strictly necessary I'd filled the needle with the medicine I needed while still at home.  So it was a simple enough matter to recheck for air bubbles, then gently slide the needle into the skin of his inner thigh and inject the medicine into his veins.

     "A localized sedative," I explained.  "Trust me, you'll be thankful I used it."

     I looked at his face, studied that square jaw, those dull eyes.  And that's when it hit me – the real reason Kevin had done what he'd done.

     "You're _jealous_," I breathed.

     He jerked away from me, as much as possible, again wanting to deny, but it was too late.  _I knew_.

     "Eddy is special," I murmured, ignoring the murderous look on Kevin's face.  "He's always been special.  And you're just..." I trailed off, unwilling even then to be unduly cruel.

     "You don't feel like much, do you, Kevin?" I asked.  "Just another jock, another suburban white boy.  You'll graduate, get a thankless job and a wife and two point five kids long before you're ready – just like your father before you.  But Eddy," I couldn't help smiling then, a _real_ smile, the smile I always wear when thinking of my beloved friends.

     "Eddy is special," I repeated.  "Ed is, too.  That's why you wouldn't leave us alone.  They're _special._  Sarah couldn't beat it out of Ed.  And you can't rape it out of Eddy."

     I reached over, wrenched his chin around so he had to look in my eyes.

     "And you won't _ever_ get the chance to try to again."

     With that, I picked my scalpel up off the bed.

     His eyes pleaded with me, but I ignored them.  I was sure Eddy's eyes had pleaded, had begged for mercy as Kevin brutally violated him, and gone unheeded – and for all that I told myself this was not about vengeance, I couldn't show Kevin such kindness with the memory of Eddy's anguish so fresh in my mind.

     I pulled his pants open even farther, then wiped the area with some disinfectant – crude, but effective.  I still had the scalpel in my hand; I couldn't put it down.  It had quickly become a lifeline of sorts, and I needed the cold metal between my fingers in order to do this.

     Finally he was ready.  I met his desperate gaze once more, and tried to give him a sweet, understanding, commiserating smile.

     "I can imagine how you must feel about this, Kevin," I whispered.  "But it's for the best of everyone, I assure you."

     With swift efficiency I castrated him.

     He couldn't feel the pain but he could feel what I'd done.  I knew he was screaming behind the gag.  I ignored him, focusing instead on stitching up the wound.  I knew precisely what to do to take care of him, to insure that he healed perfectly.  It wasn't difficult.

     When I was finished I picked up the waste – that was all I could call it, now – and deposited it in a ziplock bag I'd brought with me.  I couldn't help grinning inwardly as I put the bag away; yes, Eddy was most definitely 'special' – and Kevin was not.

     But that was cruel, no matter how true, and so I kept it to myself.

     And really – penis jokes?  I hate to sound like a snob, but I think they're a little _below_ me.

     As I was saying, I cleaned up as much as possible, mopping up the blood and depositing the ruined rags I'd used in another ziplock bag.  All these bags I put in my medical bag, so I could take them home and really dispose of them for good.  I had the vat of acid all set up in my bedroom, locked up tight so that if Ed snuck in while I was away he wouldn't accidentally get hurt – lovable oaf.  For all that this was done as a quick response, I planned my work as much as possible.  I always do.

     Once Kevin was stitched up and fairly clean I reached back into my medical bag for the last needle.  I held it up, checking for air bubbles, admiring the cool green liquid as some dribbled out of the tip when I pushed.  Kevin stared, glared really, even through his tears, but there was fear behind the glare, fear within the pain.  I could feel it sliding along my skin like slime.  Disgusting.

     I tried not to let it make me feel guilty.  So he was afraid of me.  It would be good for Kevin to know fear.

     And unlike some of us – Eddy, for instance – Kevin wouldn't have to live with the fear for long.

     "This is a new creation of mine," I said, moving so I had easier access to the crook of his left arm.  "Another sedative, mixed with-"  Here I got stuck.  How to explain this in terms he'd understand?

     Best to start at the beginning, I suppose.

     "As you may have noticed," I began hesitantly, "Ed has some trouble with his memory.  I believe that to be the true root of his oftimes baffling behavior.  As such, for years now I have been working on a – a memory serum, if you will.  Something to augment the limited memory my dear friend currently possesses.  With luck, this serum would help, not only Ed, but people with Alzheimer's and-"

     I broke off.  I knew I was getting too far off-track, but I couldn't help it.  My inventions are my passion; I could babble about them for hours.

     But I didn't have hours.  I had to get back to my explanation.

     "My point is, while developing this serum I also developed another that had the exact opposite effect.  It not only promotes forgetfulness, it _induces_ it; and as far as my limited studies have shown, the process is irreversible.  Whatever memories are lost will remain lost."

     He started to look absolutely terrified.  Kevin really doesn't know me at all; I could tell by his reaction.

     "Don't worry," I said in a much harsher tone than I'd intended.  "I have no desire to steal all your memory.  I'm simply going to modify it a bit.  I can't have you remembering it was I who... modified your body... now can I?"

     I leaned over him, stared into his red-rimmed eyes, tried to _make_ him hear me.  "But even though you won't remember, I had to tell you.  I had to tell you all of this.  Because I want some part of you, no matter how buried, to know what you've done – to yourself.  To me.  And especially to Eddy."

     Lowering my eyes I whispered, "I cannot believe what you did to Eddy."

     I stuck the needle in his vein and injected him.

     I suppose now is the part where I'm supposed to apologize.  Beg for forgiveness, plead temporary insanity.  But I am not crazy.  And I am not sorry.

     What I am is sitting on Eddy's bed, watching him sleep.  A new needle filled with the memory modifying serum is in my hand.

     I could use it, now.  Spare Eddy the pain and humiliation he'll feel upon waking, take the memory of his maltreatment at Kevin's hands away from him completely.  Kevin will remember, _I_ will remember, but I know neither of us would mention it.  And Kevin will have his own issues to deal with.

     But I don't do it.  I can't.  It wouldn't be a mercy, though it would seem one at first.  Mercy would be helping Eddy through this the long, difficult, and ultimately more healing way.

     I put the needle in my bag and don't think of it again.

     Instead I crawl in bed beside Eddy.  In his sleep he reaches for me.  I let him cling, as tightly as he needs.

     I may not get away with this.  Someone may put it all together one day, may figure out that I am the only one with the means, the skills, and the motive to have done what was done to Kevin.  But I doubt it.  The sedative I gave him will keep him sleeping until late tomorrow – and by then his body will be healing all on its own.  He won't understand what happened, but his body will already have begun its natural, resilient adapting – which should serve to confuse him further.

     And with luck, it will all leave him too embarrassed to mention it to anyone at all.

     But whatever happens, as I stare at Eddy I know I did the right thing.  I protected my own.

     If Eddy ever figures it out, he'll be proud of me.

     And that thought is enough to send me into a deep, dreamless, utterly peaceful slumber.


End file.
